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76
IVAN
“You let her go?” he snarls. “Youlet her go?This woman was on my fucking payroll and you let her waltz the fuck away?”
“That’s what I said.”
My father’s eyes narrow. “Don’t talk to me like that. This plan wasyouridea and now, you’ve let it go completely off the rails.’
“The plan is still on,” Anya cuts in, trying to help. “Ivan is still looking for the people responsible for—”
“Enough, Anya!” Otets swipes a hand to dismiss her and focuses on me. “I want to hear Ivan explain himself. I hear that you barged into Konstantin Sokolov’s office unannounced yesterday. Now, you’re cutting your bait loose without any leads. Make it make sense.”
I arch a brow. “I didn’t realize you kept in touch with Konstantin Sokolov.”
“I have to, when my son decides he wants to start a fucking war,” he hisses. “I built this Bratva from nothing and I won’t stand by and let you drive it straight into the ground.”
Anya is sitting on the very edge of the sofa, chewing on her nails. Her leg bounces with nervous energy.
Strangely, I feel completely calm.
“So what are you going to do?” I ask.
Otets’ scowl deepens. “What?”
“If you won’t stand by and watch me make the decision, then what are you going to do?”
“I’ll take back what is mine, you ungrateful little bastard. I’ll force you out. I did it to one of my children already; I can do it again.”
Anya inhales sharply. She was forced out of all Bratva business the moment she chose Lev. Usually, our father has just enough tact not to bring it up.
I nod. “You can try.”
His lip curls. “Try? I can do more than try.”
“Maybe. There’s a chance more of the men are loyal to you than to me. But I wouldn’t bank on it.”
“Are you suggesting I don’t have control over my own soldiers?” His face is going purple with rage. “You don’t want to start a civil war with me, son. It won’t end well.”
“I don’t want a civil war,” I admit freely. “But I also don’t want your approval. The only thing that matters to me is making the right calls and earning the loyalty of my men. That’s what I’ve done.”
“You sound sure.” His tone is mocking, but he’s fishing for leverage. He’s trying to figure out how confident I am. How sure I am that I can take him.
“If you’re not, then feel free to challenge me,” I say casually.
He opens and closes his mouth a few times, at a loss for what to do. We’ve toed the line of decorum over the last few years, even as his bitterness about being forced out has risen. But now, I’m saying,Fuck the line.
This is my Bratva now.
“So what’s the grand plan, son? Your little wife isn’t much use if she won’t even talk to you.” His eyes remain cold and hard as he takes me in. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You never could keep a woman around.”
I stand my ground. “I guess I should have taken notes from you and locked her up. Maybe I should have slapped her around a bit to take the fight out of her, right?”
“You little fucking—”
“Raise your hand to me and see if it ends well for you, Father. I think you know it won’t.”
His hand flops back by his side, though it stays knotted in a fist. His jaw works as he grinds his teeth. Finally, he says, “Good luck, son. You’re going to need it.”
